


Decant

by talkingtothesky



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Accidental time travel to apocalyptic future, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Canon, Time Travel to fix an apocalyptic future, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22334659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/pseuds/talkingtothesky
Summary: Aziraphale accidentally travels one week into the future. A lot happens in said week.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14
Collections: Past Imperfect Future Unknown 2019





	Decant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AstroGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroGirl/gifts).

“What do you think, dear? Shall we spend the rest of the afternoon canoodling?”

Crowley makes a face at the word choice, but stretches out on the sofa in Aziraphale’s backroom, eagerly anticipating the angel’s weight settling on top of him. “I’d like that.”

Aziraphale gets up from his desk. On a side table is his crystal whisky decanter and glasses. With one of his cheerful wiggles, he announces: “Allow me to quench your thirst so I can…quench your thirst.”

A moment later, the container falls. Crowley freezes it in place so it doesn’t shatter, a river of golden droplets curving to the floor. The hand supporting it has just vanished. Crowley rips off his shades and sits up, horror struck. He slides off the settee and shuffles forwards on his knees, hand cautiously passing through the empty air which ought to be occupied by his angel. “No, no, no, no, no.”

Whatever Adam did when he separated the angel from Madame Tracy, it didn’t last. The forces of darkness have backed down. He’s just an ordinary boy now. And Aziraphale…is gone. But his bookshop is still here, unburned. Crowley’s voice is little more than a pained wheeze. “No. Come on, I just got him back. Do you hear? Send him back to me!”

~

Crowley is mistaken. Aziraphale hasn’t vanished. He’s just moved. Where exactly he has moved _to_ would cause some debate among theoretical physicists.

Adam read about time crystals in one of Anathema’s magazines. When he recreated the bookshop, he didn’t mean to replace the stopper with another kind of glass.

Aziraphale is going to land exactly where he was before. Give or take a week. It’s an eventful week.

~

Aziraphale frowns at the round object in his hand. The whisky tumblers are on the table where he left them, as is the decanter, sans lid. It’s as though he got caught in a daydream and forgot what he was in the middle of doing. He’s alone in the bookshop.

He almost steps on a pair of dark sunglasses. “Crowley?”

The stopper goes back in the bottle, in favour of picking up the frames and following him outside.

The street is noticeably different. All the other shops are closed. There are no people wandering by. A chill wind tugs at his shirtsleeves, and there’s a note of fear in the air. It might be called spooky if it weren’t broad daylight.

Crowley is nowhere to be found. This troubles him, but not as badly as the low, gurgling moan which emerges from over his shoulder.

Aziraphale whirls around. “Oh, hello.” He is confronted with the sight of a scruffy human whose face is somehow lopsided. His gait is odd too, as though he’s barely summoning the energy to remain upright, let alone achieve forward momentum. There’s something unfriendly about the bloodshot eyes.

Aziraphale’s self-preservation instincts kick in at last. “I…I think perhaps I’d better go inside. Apologies.”

There are two more unfortunate humans pushing feebly at his windows by the time he locks the door and draws the blind. He remembers he left an upstairs window open for the breeze and goes to close it. He has a clear vantage point to witness Crowley knock down the shamblers like skittles with a demonically overpowered water pistol. Only it isn’t loaded with water. Or holy water. More like acid. Best not to think about that.

He lets Crowley in and re-secures the door before being swept up in a tight hug. “Thought I heard your voice. Where the -” Crowley stops short of saying ‘hell’. “Where did you go?”

Aziraphale rubs his back. The croakiness of Crowley’s voice hurts his heart. “Nowhere, so far as I know. But clearly something has gone wrong.”

Crowley lets go. “You think? You only missed the apocalypse starting up. Again.”

“Another one? But…I thought we convinced them to back off?” He points one index finger at the ceiling and the other at the floor.

“Nothing to do with my lot. I checked. Nor your side. I still remember how to get in, from when I was you.”

“You spoke to Gabriel?”

“You should have seen his face when I slithered in over his smooth white floors.” Crowley looks pleased with himself for a moment, then his grin falters. “Truth is, I was looking for you.”

“You assumed I might be…”

“Being issued a new body, at best. At worst…I thought I might gouge his eyes out.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale’s tone is admonishing, but his hand on Crowley’s cheek and their lips meeting makes it more complicated than that. “That was terribly dangerous, dearheart. I’m glad you made it back in one piece. What have you been doing? How long was I missing?”

“Eight days, I think? Might’ve lost track. I’ve been trying to get people to safety. Miraculous escapes, and all that. Your sushi chef’s safe.”

Aziraphale can’t think of adequate words to make up for what Crowley must have gone through. He focuses on facts instead. “So the humans are turning into zombies without intervention?”

“Afraid so. While you were gone, what did you see?”

“Nothing, I swear! I blinked and lost all that time without knowing it.”

Crowley’s hand opens and closes rapidly. “Where’s the…thing you were holding, when you disappeared?”

They walk back through the shop together. When Aziraphale points out the crystal, Crowley hisses “Don’t touch it!” and clings to his sleeve.

Aziraphale pats his hand. “I’m pretty certain it’s inert now.” In order to avoid direct contact, he spreads out a handkerchief over his fingers and palm before moving the sphere to his desk. Reading specs on, magnifying glass in hand. It only takes a few minutes of intense study before his theory is confirmed. “There, you see? Its entire structure changed. These things are designed to pass through seven or eight phases before returning to their original configuration. Now all we need to do is wait for it to be back in its travelling mood.”

Leaning over his shoulder, Crowley seems highly sceptical. “And then what?”

“Go back and stop all this, of course. We did it before.”

“Adam did it before.” Crowley corrects him.

Aziraphale winces. “I just realized I’ve forgotten to ask about all our friends.”

“They’re fine. Everyone in Tadfield fled to the bunker at the airbase. Shadwell’s still using his magic finger to fend off the hordes.”

Aziraphale looks at him sharply. “He isn’t.”

Crowley smiles, revealing he’s teasing. “They’re all still human, I promise.”

“Any idea what started the infection?”

“Bacteria. It was on the news, before the anchors got eaten. Some lab boffins were mass producing flour from bacteria and water, trying to save the planet from predicted food shortages due to global warming. Only it’s not fit for human consumption yet.”

“And some of it got out…” Aziraphale shudders. “But it’s alright! All we need to do is go back and tell the investors what their product will cause.”

“You can’t control this. You didn’t know what had happened. And even if you found the right moment, they might not believe you.”

Aziraphale pokes Crowley’s chin. “They will if you flash your demon head at them.”

Crowley snorts, but Aziraphale is convinced this will work.

“It’ll be different this time. We’ll go together.”

“You bet, we will. I’m not doing without you again.”

~

About an hour later, the crystal starts gently twinkling. Aziraphale hadn’t noticed this the last time, distracted as he was by Crowley lounging seductively on his furniture. This time, better prepared, they interlace their fingers and cup the crystal between their palms, touching it at the exact same instant.

As a matter of interest, Agnes Nutter studied the crystal far more thoroughly, and could see images inside it, during two of its other phases. It enabled her both to travel in time and to see into the lives of others not yet born, learning secrets she would never have learnt had she been physically present. It was possible to control the crystal down to the minute.

The angel and the demon did not have her precision, but the universe is kind to bumbling beings with love in their hearts.


End file.
